"Through my walks and conversations I was able to live life in a way I hadn’t before. French was my compass but compassion and curiosity guided my visit."
It was July in France. I was walking home at two o’clock in the morning. My host family was inside sleeping peacefully, their kitten finding a spot on the fluffy gray carpet in my room. As late as it was, there was little shortage of bodies lining the streets. It seems boring compared to the other quests and adventures possible in Paris, just a brisk five-minute walk from the metro station. But between the line 12 stop and the Parisian apartment I temporarily occupied, I felt an overflow of gratitude.
It was my first time alone in a foreign country, an opportunity my dad was given when immigrating to the US in his twenties. I applied for the program on a whim—on the off chance I would find a way to go. As a Global Learning Scholar, the program fees, including tuition and housing, were my biggest concern prior to committing to the experience. But once the burden was relieved and I buzzed into my new family’s apartment for the very first time, I was able to navigate life abroad, I was finally given the chance to understand what a privilege and a challenge it would be.
Of course, apart from the hours I spent exploring the air-conditioned interior of Reid Hall, I spent most of my time memorizing grammar rules and breaking down over their exceptions. After all, my purpose for being there in the first place was to study French. And I had the most valuable resource at my service: Paris and its people. No textbook or practice questions could prepare me for that. But through making small-talk with shop staff and awkwardly nodding along to conversations with my host mother (pretending to understand and adding in a few ‘oui’s’ for effect), I slowly took on what would be the most rewarding part of my French study experience. My time in Paris fundamentally altered my understanding of language and how I used it. The intricacies of the French language (and people) unfolded as the days progressed.
But more importantly, I learned how to be alone and find connection with others.
Whether that meant testing out my broken French on an unexpecting Parisian or crashing a Parisian house party and exchanging lingo (much of which was too obscene to share in class), more and more faces appeared in my camera roll and in my memory. My walk back home and the silent tiptoe up the staircase that followed provided me with a grounding sense of appreciation. For my journey to Paris, the time I got to spend learning in and out of the classroom, and the people who made it what it was. The experience gave me clarity, wisdom, and above all a new perspective (it was my first time in Europe, after all). Through my walks and conversations I was able to live life in a way I hadn’t before. French was my compass but compassion and curiosity guided my visit. I left Paris with a better understanding of myself and my desires, and of course, the French language. Even so, the exceptions still don’t make sense, but, as I’ve learned, not everything has to.
